


Silk

by tlalnepantla



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Babies, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Parenthood, Romance, Sweet, implied sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-07-13 16:38:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16021832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tlalnepantla/pseuds/tlalnepantla
Summary: The truth is, Jesus has never been with someone long enough to start consider children. Just being with the same person for more than a couple of months used to seem like an unrealistic commitment for him. Daryl isn’t his longest relationshipyet, and he still sometimes gets that panicky feeling in his gut, telling him to escape before he breaks his or Daryl’s heartor both, but looking at his partner now, he knows falling out of love is an absolute impossibility.





	Silk

**Author's Note:**

> I stopped watching TWD after Carl died, so I'm now living in my happy bubble and have no idea what's happening in the series. This is set after the war, but nothing bad happens.

When Maggie shows up at Jesus and Daryl’s trailer and asks them to look after baby Hershel, Jesus thinks she must be joking.

“What?” he asks stupidly because there’s no way Maggie wants _them_ to babysit her precious offspring.

Maggie rolls her eyes, sighing.

“Just give him to Daryl,” she says tiredly, and before Jesus can ask whether she has lost her mind, she’s pushing the baby into Jesus’ arms. “I only need two hours to show the newcomers how to be useful. I fed him about half an hour ago, he should be fine for a while.”

“Sure, but–” Jesus starts to protest, finding himself somewhat distracted, because hell, he’s holding a fucking _two-months-old_ and it’s just way too much responsibility at 7 AM – but Maggie is already walking away, not even looking back.

“Daryl knows what to do!” she calls out, and Jesus can hear the smile in her voice.

“Does he?!” Jesus yells back, but Maggie only waves her hand before disappearing behind one of the trailers.

Jesus looks down at the bundle in his arms, letting out a long sigh. He’s relieved to see Hershel appears to be fast asleep, not bothered by Jesus’ obvious distress. It’s late October and the mornings are already quite chilly so Maggie has chosen a thicker fleece blanket to wrap her baby boy in. It’s orange with white cartoon bunnies, and Jesus remembers finding it himself when they were scavenging for ‘baby stuff’ with Daryl a couple weeks back.

Jesus thought the blanket was incredibly _cute_ back then, but now, looking at the sleeping, dark-haired infant copy of Glenn, nestled inside the same piece of fabric, he feels completely lost and slightly horrified.

“What the fuck are you yellin’ about?” a gruff voice behind Jesus says and he turns around in the doorway.

“Maggie left us with _this_ ,” Jesus answers, showing the mini human in his arms to Daryl (who, by the way, looks adorably sulky, his hair pointing to every direction and his eyes so squinty Jesus is amazed the man can even see anything). He didn’t even stir when Jesus got up to answer the door, and by the looks of it, he still isn’t completely awake. “I don’t know what we’re supposed to do with it.”

“Don’t call him _it_ ,” Daryl grunts. “And close the door, it’s fuckin’ freezin’ in here.”

“Well, good morning to you too, _honey_ ,” Jesus retorts, rolling his eyes, as he steps inside the trailer. He’s too scared to drop the baby so he battles awkwardly with the door, trying to close it using only his elbows. He can hear Daryl snort.

“Just give ‘im to me before somethin’ bad happens,” he says, and before Jesus has time to react, Daryl grabs Hershel and wraps his arms around him, balancing the baby’s head against his bicep. Hershel lets out a whine, opening his eyes and looking lazily at Daryl who is actually _smiling_ right back at him.

“Shhh, just sleep, don’t let ‘im scare you,” Daryl murmurs, rocking the baby lightly and using his other hand to secure the bunny blanket around the tiny body. Hershel blinks slowly a couple of times before his eyes close again and he settles comfortably in Daryl’s arms.

Jesus can’t help but stare, dumbfounded.

Daryl moves to sit on the couch, gently humming at the baby – hell, he’s wearing the smile Jesus thought was only reserved for him –  and doesn’t seem to notice Jesus’ shock over witnessing Daryl _fucking_ Dixon practically _cooing_. And it’s not like seeing how good Daryl is with children is anything new – he’s watched Daryl with Rick’s daughter, how his whole demeanor changes from quiet and reserved to all smiles and sweet talk – but _babies_ are completely on another level. They’re small and helpless and fragile, and Jesus, _personally_ , would like to stay as far from them as he can, simply out of fear that he could accidentally break one.

Kids, kids he can understand. Kids talk, they communicate, they can tell adults when they’re hungry and when they need to pee, but babies… Jesus can’t deal with babies.

And apparently he can’t deal with Daryl dealing with babies either.

“She away for long?” Daryl asks, snapping Jesus out of his thoughts.

“Uh, no, she said two hours,” Jesus answers. He finds himself looking intently at Daryl, and he knows he looks like a huge question mark, because Daryl’s smile suddenly falters.

“What, Paul?” he asks, sounding a little anxious under Jesus’ scrutiny. He runs his hand through his hair, making it even messier.

“Nothing!” Jesus hurries to say, giving himself a mental slap in the face before finally sitting on the couch next to Daryl. “I just… had no idea you’re… good with babies.”

“Used to take care of Judith. All of us did,” Daryl answers like it’s supposed to explain everything. He holds Jesus’ gaze for a second longer before averting his eyes to look at Hershel again. His face instantly softens and the corners of his mouth turn up – just enough for Jesus to know it’s a smile.

“I’m so bad with them,” Jesus confesses, crossing his arms and leaning back on the couch. “I thought there was no way I’d never have to babysit Hershel. I’m pretty sure I even told Maggie I’m horrible with kids of… that size.” He nods his head at Hershel, and Daryl snorts, smirking.

“What? It’s not funny,” Jesus says, almost feeling offended. _He_ should be the one teasing Daryl, not the other way around. It’s unsettling.

Daryl only shrugs, but he’s still grinning behind a curtain of his hair.

Jesus sighs.

***

The rest of the morning goes by surprisingly (and thankfully) quickly. Jesus feels a lot more at ease making breakfast, drinking a cup of tepid tea and reading a book by the kitchen table, all the while carefully staying away from the baby. There’s a moment when Daryl has to let go of Hershel for a minute to dress up in his day clothes, and he gently lowers the baby on their bed, making Jesus want to say something (like, “You’ll ruin that child’s innocence for good if you put him on _that_ bed”), but he holds his tongue just in time.

After making sure Hershel is still sleeping soundly under the bunny blanket in their bed, Daryl too picks up a book (one of Jesus', mind you) and settles down on the couch to read. For a good while there are no other sounds besides the occasional soft whimpers from Hershel, but Daryl doesn’t seem to even notice them, so Jesus tries to relax too.

Just before nine o’clock there’s a knock on the door. Daryl gets up and lets Maggie in.

Her cheeks are pink and her hair tousled by the wind, and her smile lights up the room as she picks up Hershel from the bed.

“He give you any trouble?” she asks and kisses the baby softly on the forehead.

“Nah, slept like a log,” Daryl answers, and there’s that damn _smile_ again.

“He’s an excellent sleeper. Thank God,” Maggie says tenderly. “Only really cries when he’s hungry.”

“Like Judith.”

“Yeah, just like Judith.”

Maggie and Daryl change meaningful looks, both obviously contemplating on a mutual memory, and Jesus can’t help feeling like an outsider. He tries to continue reading, wanting to give the other two a chance to a moment in private, but he can feel Maggie’s gaze on him.

“It’d be a great help if you could babysit him again, he seems to like you two,” she says and Jesus looks up at her just in time to see the teasing glint in her eyes.

“Yeah, sure, Maggie,” Daryl scoffs like there’s literally nothing he would rather do besides babysitting Hershel (and Jesus is starting to suspect it actually might be the case). “Whenever you want.”

“Of course,” Jesus agrees, trying to sound reassuring, but knowing he doesn’t quite get there.

“Great!” Maggie says, smiling sweetly. “I’ll let you know a bit earlier next time.” She winks at Daryl and then walks to the door.

***

“You ever wanted kids?” Jesus asks Daryl that evening. They’re lying in their bed (which, in theory, is way too narrow for two men, but neither of them minds), under the covers, Daryl on his back and Jesus snuggly glued to his side. His head is resting on Daryl’s chest and his left hand gently caresses the bare skin of his stomach. Daryl’s been quiet for a while, his chest rising and falling steadily as he breathes, but Jesus knows he’s still awake.

It still takes almost a full minute before he answers, “Nah. Never.”

“Why not?”

“Dunno, just didn’t.”

“But you like them.”

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

“Shut up.”

Jesus sighs, giving up. He’s already used to Daryl’s way of telling he doesn’t want to talk about something. It used to happen _all the time_ – it took months and months before they actually started having real conversations that didn’t end in Daryl stomping out of the room like Jesus had somehow offended him by asking how his day had been – but Jesus learned not to push, never forcing Daryl to open up about things he wanted to keep to himself.

However, nothing prevents _Jesus_ from talking.

“I never did either,” he says, slowly moving his hand until his palm almost covers Daryl’s right nipple. “I mean, kids are nice. Other people’s kids. But to have an own child... Just seems like a lot of work.”

“Hmh.”

The truth is, Jesus has never been with someone long enough to start consider children. Just being with the same person for more than a couple of months used to seem like an unrealistic commitment for him. Daryl isn’t his longest relationship _yet_ , and he still sometimes gets that panicky feeling in his gut, telling him to escape before he breaks his or Daryl’s heart _or both_ , but looking at his partner now, he knows falling out of love is an absolute impossibility.

“Didn’t really have a way to actually _make_ a kid,” he continues, “besides adoption, I guess. So never had to play with the idea either. And seriously, I’m too young to have children.”

“You ain’t _that_ young,” Daryl grunts, making Jesus grin.

“I’m young compared to you, old man,” he remarks and squeezes Daryl’s nipple between his index finger and thumb.

“Fuck you,” Daryl retorts but his voice is completely void of spite. He curls his fingers around Jesus’ wrist, but doesn’t make a move to push his hand away.

Jesus chuckles, raising his head to look at Daryl. Daryl is looking at him, and he has a particular look on his face, the one that Jesus recognizes all too well – it’s full of contentment and fondness, and Jesus absolutely _loves_ it, but there’s always something else behind it too, like he can’t believe Jesus is there in the bed with him.

It makes Jesus want to kiss him.

So he does.

“Could make a baby with you, though,” he murmurs between the kisses he plants on Daryl’s neck, on his jaw, then on the side of his mouth and on the beauty mark next to the nose, and Daryl groans.

“You never shut up, do you?” Daryl already sounds a little out of breath, and Jesus smiles against his skin.

“I think _you_ would make a great dad,” he whispers before giving a quick peck on the thin lips.

“This some kinda bad foreplay, Rovia?” Daryl breathes, trying to sound indifferent but failing miserably.

More kisses on the jaw – no, one of them was definitely a lick.

“We should try making one. It could happen. And – just to be sure – we should try _a lot_.” To emphasize his words, Jesus pulls his hand easily out of Daryl’s loose grip and moves it down the other man’s stomach, stopping just before his fingers are about to sneak underneath the covers.

“... You’re fuckin’ impossible,” Daryl groans, his half-lidded eyes staring at Jesus.

A lick, a bite, a kiss on top of the bite.

“No, pretty sure I’m fucking you.”

***

”What about that one?” Jesus asks, pointing at the house at the end of the street. They’re out again, scavenging with a group of people from the Hilltop and going through a small suburban area about fifty miles away from Alexandria. The place has obviously been raided many times before them, but this time they’re literally taking _everything_ that seems even remotely useful.

”That? Nah,” Daryl answers, squinting his eyes at the small two-storey house. It looks just like any other abandoned house – the white paint is peeling of and the porch is covered in moss. The front door is missing, which could be a bad sign, but they haven’t seen a single walker yet and it’s very unlikely they would _all_ be inside that particular house.

”There was a kiddie pool in the backyard. Could have something for Hershel,” Jesus says, shrugging. So far the whole area has been a disappointment, but Jesus is not ready to give up yet.

”Fine,” Daryl grunts, taking out his knife. ”But this time let’s make sure it’s actually secure. Don’t wanna be savin’ your ass again.”

”What the hell are you talking about, Dixon?” Jesus pretends to sound shocked, but he knows he’s smiling too widely. ”It was _you_ who tripped over that bucket and woke up every walker within a hundred miles.”

Daryl doesn’t answer, but Jesus is happy to see a lovely blush spreading on his face.

”C’mon, let’s do this,” he says and starts walking towards the house, not looking back to see whether Jesus is following him or not.

They secure the building carefully, going through every room and closet, but the house is uninhabited. It has also been emptied quite thoroughly, however, there are useful things lying around here and there, and Jesus and Daryl pick them up.

There are more usable things on the second floor of the house. The bedroom looks almost untouched, and Jesus goes through the dresser next to the bed, grabbing some socks, lingerie and undershirts, while Daryl disappears into the walk-in closet.

Jesus then moves to a room that obviously belonged to a kid. The small bed is covered in thick dust and the light blue wallpaper is partly coming off, but Jesus can imagine a child, maybe around five years old, having lived there. There’s a small bookshelf with a couple of kids’ books but not much else.

Jesus empties the bookshelf and almost moves to the next room, but stops at the door abruptly, turning back to look at the bed. He walks back and kneels on the floor, peeking under the bed.

Two black eyes stare back at him.

He reaches his arm and pulls out a brown teddy bear that looks almost new. Its fur is soft and the nose and ears are still attached. It even has a shiny red velvet bow around its neck.

”Hello, teddy,” Jesus says, smiling.

***

”You think Hershel would like this?” Jesus waves the bear in front of Daryl who’s just finished with the walk-in closet. He stops at the doorway and squints at the toy.

”He’s a baby. He ain’t got no opinions,” he scoffs but Jesus can see straight through him. Daryl’s face has gone soft again, laced with an expression that Jesus now knows is purely dedicated to thinking about Maggie’s little son.

”Well, I think he’ll like it. Maybe after he’s older, then,” Jesus says. ”It looks new, all the other kids will be jealous.”

”Hmh.”

”You checked out the bathroom yet?”

”Nah.”

”I’ll do it then.”

Jesus stuffs the teddy bear into his backpack and goes to the small en-suite on the other side of the bedroom. He opens the medicine cabinet and isn’t surprised to find it almost empty. There are some painkillers, a dirty toothbrush and...

”Woah! Come look what I found!” he calls out to Daryl as he reaches for an unopened pink cardboard package that is partly hidden behind an empty bottle of mouthwash.

”What, what is it?” Daryl asks impatiently as he appears behind Jesus.

”You think these things expire?” Jesus asks. He turns around and shows Daryl the package.  Daryl stares at it and blushes faster than Jesus has ever seen him blush. Then he turns on his heels and stalks out the bathroom, not saying another word.

”Daryl!” Jesus yells after him, waving the pregnancy test. ”Don’t you wanna know if I’m with a baby? I have weird cravings, Daryl!”

”Shut the hell up, Paul!”

Jesus hears Daryl stomping out of the bedroom and almost chokes on his laughter.

***

A few days later, Maggie announces her wish to travel to Alexandria to talk about the Hilltop’s trade deal with Rick, and of course Daryl volunteers to take care of Hershel while she’s gone. It took almost half a year until Daryl finally stopped looking like Glenn’s ghost was staring at him whenever he had to speak or even be in the same room with Maggie, and Jesus knows Daryl still feels he has some kind of debt to be paid for what happened. He’s always doing Maggie favors, even if it would be logical for someone else to do them.

But when Maggie brings Hershel again to their trailer and Jesus sees Daryl’s baby-worshipping smile, he knows this time it’s not a completely selfless deed. The damned tot makes Daryl so happy Jesus almost feels jealous.

”You should probably stay in my room in the house, all his stuff is there,” Maggie says as she gently gives Hershel to Daryl. ”Also, he’s not so excited about drinking formula, but it’ll have to do.”

”Why doesn’t Rick come here?” Jesus finds himself asking, instantly realizing how it must sound and feeling bad about it. ”I mean, wouldn’t that be easier?”

Maggie’s eyebrows go up.

”Try hanging out with Hershel for three months straight and you’ll find yourself wanting a break too,” she says.

”Yeah, of course, I’m sor–” Jesus starts but a stern look from Daryl shuts him up.

”Jesus, it’s okay,” Maggie assures, her face softening. ”You can’t know these things, not before you go through it yourself.”

For some reason Daryl is suddenly blushing hard _again_ and Jesus finds it absolutely delightful. The bright red face doesn’t go unnoticed by Maggie, but she ignores it (probably for Daryl’s sake) and instead hands him a piece of paper with some basic instructions.

”It’s not all there but it ain’t rocket science. You know what to do,” she says, looking at them both, but Jesus knows when she says ‘you know what to do’ she actually means ‘Daryl will handle this’, and Jesus has no trouble with that – Maggie seems to have complete faith in Daryl, which means Jesus can just concentrate on enjoying his charming babysitting antics.

Jesus listens while Maggie goes through Hershel’s desired feeding and sleeping schedule with Daryl, and after they’re done, she places a kiss on her son’s forehead before picking up her travel backpack and walking away. She casts a final look over her shoulder, smiling, and then Daryl and Jesus – and Hershel – are alone.

Jesus turns to look at Hershel who has a look of concentration on his face. His black eyes are staring right into Jesus and suddenly his expression turns weirdly smug.

“Well, Rovia,” Daryl says slowly, flashing Jesus a smirk. “Think it’s time for you to learn how to change diapers.”

“Aw, hell no,” Jesus groans.

***

Jesus doesn’t get much sleep that night.

Daryl fell asleep right away and is currently snoring away next to him, seemingly enjoying Maggie’s luxuriously wide bed (at least compared to their sad trailer bed) while Jesus is lying on his side, staring at Hershel’s crib on the other side of the room. It doesn’t matter that Hershel has been dead to the world since he was put in bed before seven in the evening, not making a sound or even stirring after Daryl and Paul settled in, Jesus just can’t seem to take his eyes off the baby. What if they both sleep heavily and won’t wake up to Hershel’s crying? What if he turns in his crib and suffocates? Jesus remembers that can happen to babies. Is it even normal for babies to sleep so many hours in a row? _What if_ he is already dead?

He was about to voice out his worries to Daryl in the evening, but the man fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow and Jesus didn’t have a heart to wake him up. So there he is, eyes feeling like he has two pieces of sandpaper folded under his lids, keeping count of hours by listening to the grandfather clock that strikes every hour in Barrington House’s lobby. It’s already 3 AM.

_Three hours and I can wake him up_ , Jesus thinks, yawning, as he glances at his partner. Daryl looks younger when he sleeps, the wrinkles on his face smoothed out and his usually tight-lipped expression gone, replaced with an almost relaxed look.

Though he doesn’t understand how Daryl can just _sleep_ when the definition of _irreplaceable_ , Maggie and Glenn’s only child, is completely at their mercy. Should anything happen, Maggie would _kill_ them. Hell, Jesus would _let_ her kill them. They would totally deserve it.

Jesus blinks tiredly, thinking about how many ways Maggie could end him, when he feels a hand on his face, pushing the hair off his face.

“Paul, wake up.”

“Mhwhat?” Jesus murmurs and opens his eyes, and finds Daryl sitting on the side of the bed with Hershel in his lap. Hershel’s chubby fingers are wrapped tightly around a nursing bottle and he’s making sucking noises as he eats. The next thing Jesus registers is that it’s already bright in the room, meaning that he somehow managed to doze off and sleep through the rest of the night.

“Shit, how long have you been up?” he grunts and sits up in the bed.

”Since five when this lil’ guy started beggin’ for attention,” Daryl answers. His eyes are tender again as he caresses Hershel’s forehead.

“Christ,” Jesus sighs and rubs his eyes. The sun is shining directly to the bedroom, which means he missed at least three hours of watching Daryl coo over Hershel. What a shame.

“Hey, you wanna feed ‘im?” Daryl asks suddenly and Jesus turns to look at him so fast his neck cracks painfully.

“Ehm,” he manages to say, and then Daryl is already giving Hershel to him, because _of course_ he should have known it was a rhetorical question.

“Hold the head,” Daryl advices as Jesus wraps his (totally _not_ shaking) arms around the baby. Luckily Hershel doesn’t even seem to notice he’s been passed to someone else and continues eating from the bottle like his life depends on it.

Jesus has to remind himself (only about ten times) that it’s physically impossible to drop the baby from where he’s sitting before he starts to relax. Hershel is _warm_ and his hair looks so silky and Jesus can’t help but to gently, _very gently_ , run his fingers through it. It’s softer than silk.

“Woah,” he says, amazed. He lifts his head to look at Daryl who’s watching them both, a soft expression on his face.

_Softer than silk._

***

Maggie comes back after three days, looking somehow more rested and carefree, as she walks through the Hilltop gates. Daryl and Jesus are waiting for her, and Jesus proudly gives Hershel back to her, alive and well.

“I missed you so much,” Maggie murmurs against the baby’s cheek, and Jesus can’t seem to stop smiling.

They change a few words before Maggie walks up to Barrington House, and Daryl and Jesus go back to their trailer.

After shaking off his boots, Jesus instantly falls onto their bed, sighing deeply. He managed to sleep a little bit better for the past two nights, but he’s still _exhausted_ and immensely grateful to finally be alone with Daryl.

Even though Hershel is absolutely adorable. He can admit it.

Daryl follows his example and lies down next to him, nudging Jesus to make more room for him. He then grabs Jesus’ face and kisses him, hard. Jesus – pleasantly surprised but excited nonetheless because it’s a rare treat from Daryl to initiate a make out session – hums approvingly, and kisses him back as eagerly.

They only separate after Jesus practically yawns into Daryl’s mouth. For the third time.

“Sorry,” Jesus says and gives a final peck on Daryl’s lips. Daryl only nods, but he has _that_ look again, the one that makes Jesus’ heart feel too big for his chest.

“Paul,” Daryl starts, his voice low and soft, and Jesus knows he wants to say something else but doesn’t maybe know how, so he just smiles and nods, waiting for Daryl to find words.

“Just… You– you would be a good dad, too,” Daryl finally manages to say, and Jesus feels like his heart might be too big for the whole trailer.

“Oh, Daryl,” he says, and his voice is _not_ shaking, and no, his eyes are definitely _not_ getting wet, because that would be ridiculous.

Then suddenly he realizes something, and that something isn’t as scary as he thought it would be.

“I think we _are_ good dads,” he says, “both of us.”


End file.
